The II Legion
by Killerison
Summary: It is the 31st Millennium, War and despair have yet to plague the empires of man, treachery has yet to reveal its foul visage. It is a time of heroes, mighty war gods lead legions of battle forged warriors on countless worlds in the Name of the Emperor and the Imperial truth. But two of them are doomed to be forgotten, lost in the mists of time. But this was not always the case.
1. Chapter 1

_++Chapter 1+++_

_"Humanity is dying. I see its life ebb away with each passing day, not in the war torn battlefields of the crusade, but in the faces of the Astartes that fight for its survival and the gods that lead them. In striving to forge a mighty empire, we are slowly losing what once made us human. The tighter we clutch to our heritage, the more it slips through our fingers, what good is an empire if we lose sight of who we were?"_

+++Valdes Rival, Primarch of the II Legion+++

+31st Millennium+

Shells fell like plump raindrops, slamming into the already shattered earth and exploding into rosebuds of fire. Titans lumbered overhead, shaking the ground with their heavy tread and felling the huge obsidian spires with their thunderous guns. Tanks rolled over mounds of crumpled bodies, their treads slick with filth and blood, their huge weapon mounts tracing back and forth in search of a fresh target. The indigenous people of Seventy three- sixteen referred to the city as Haven, though now it bore more in common with Hell.

Captain Nathan Avaro, master of the second Company lifted his snarling chainsword and pointed down the main boulevard

"Push up" he bellowed, the other Astartes in the company broke into a battle march, bounding over rubble and bodies in a relentless advance. Bullets from emplacements ahead stitched the ground at their feet as the next emplacement lit up

"Contact, 500 metres, fortified" he bellowed before hurling a grenade towards the bunker. It went off, the orange flames licking the reinforced outer walls. Switching his Bolter to full auto he sprayed the gun port. Screams echoed from the inside as the explosive rounds met their mark. "MOVE!" he roared, the men charged forwards ducking in and out of cover. The rest of the emplacement lit up with gunfire as the defenders attempted to hold off the charging Space Marines. Squad Orion was first to reach the bunker, their Bolters barked, tearing through the K'tari posted there.

"Neutralised" came the confirmation. Avaro increased his pace

"Continue down the main boulevard, neutralize any hostiles"

"Captain!" Orion's voice crackled in the Captain's ear "Weapons platform, advancing." True to the sergeant's word a large insect like weapons platform was scuttling down the street towards them, unleashing torrents of silver needles in the direction of the advancing Astartes.

"Cover!" the Captain barked and the men at his heels all obeyed immediately, crouching behind felled masonry as the heavier weapons were brought to bear. The captain gritted his teeth, switching vox channels

"Bastion breacher shells, 40 metres North of my position"

"Aye sir" came the static laced reply. Avaro lifted a clenched fist and counted down in his head. _Three, two, one._ A high density explosive shell slammed into the scorpion like heavy weapons platform, belching flames and smoke, it keeled over, its legs twitching as its servos powered down. The men at the emplacement scattered, screaming as some of them caught fire. Avaro straightened up and fired off a series of four round bursts, each volley obliterating one of the fleeing militia.

The world was human, one of the many colonies founded centuries ago, but time away from their brothers on Holy Terra had left them weak, and corrupt. Initial contact had revealed that not only had the inhabitants of Seventy three- sixteen adopted deities, but had infused their own genetic makeup with those of foul Xenos species. Resulting in a militant force of grotesquely deformed hybrids, each adorned with slabs of raw muscle and sinew, making them stand almost as tall as an Astartes, though they lacked the efficiency and speed of the amassed Astartes force raining down on them.

The assault on the false Emperor's palace had been orchestrated perfectly, utilising the Legions strengths and forming a carefully timed battle plan. Everything had been accounted for.

Avaro climbed over the rubble and began to jog past the twitching weapons platform. The palace lay ahead of them, like a jewelled crown amidst a black and scorched carcass. Through the sound of the numerous warhead detonations Avaro could make out the bloodcurdling warcries of the Third Company. Sergeant Orion appeared at his captain's shoulder

"Looks like Rax has started without us" the Sergeant chuckled

"Then we'd better follow up, I'll never hear the end of it if the Third reach the objective before us" Avaro grinned beneath his snub nosed Helm. In the ramshackle defence line the blood slathered silhouettes of the Third company stood, towering over their opponents, swatting them aside with brutal swings of crackling mauls and hammers. A small squad of breachers stood at the golden gilded doors, pounding them relentlessly with power fists in an effort to crack open the citadel ahead of schedule, too impatient to wait for the Rapier weapon batteries to arrive. Avro issued a series of curt orders, organising his men into fire teams and spreading them around the defences to allow for maximum coverage. Weapon ports in the palace walls opened up, revealing thin barrelled cannons, each one spitting a torrent of silver barbs into the Astartes below

"Shields!" Avaro barked, and his men responded instantly, either raising their storm and combat shields or ducking behind their fellows, using the time to load armour piercing rounds into their Bolters. When the fire stopped, the shield bearers crouched, allowing the Marines with freshly loaded Bolters to fire over their shoulders, spraying the ports with the high velocity rounds, tearing the automated defences to pieces, the fragments raining down on the heads of the Third company. With a dull grinding the huge doors opened, allowing the next wave of the palace guard to pour though the gap, their lithe frames and glittering armour was at odds with the dull brutes the Astartes had encountered on approach. They slipped between the bulkier Third company and seemingly made a beeline for the Second, glittering barbs flying from their bronze gauntlets.

"BRACE" Avaro shouted, the mass of men slammed into the front ranks, the marines pushing back, using their heavily armoured shoulders, shattered them like glass. Before the broken bodies hit the earth the marines drew their combat blades and struck back. Robbed of its force the charging mass of the palace guard were quickly dispersed. Bolters were maglocked to belts and exchanged for pistols. The fire teams held their ground, battering and slashing their would-be attackers, forcing the shimmering tide of half-men back through sheer brutal efficiency. Avaro flipped his Bolter onto his back and drew his chainsword. Thumbing the activation stud to send it into snarling, angry life he swung the weapon in a wide arc, hacking through numerous adversaries. Blood splattered across his chestplate. He pointed to the doors with his whirring chainsword, urging the fire teams onwards to the palace itself. Seeing that their assault was ineffective, the K'tari attempted to turn and flee to the safety of the palace, but they were quickly smashed against the anvil that was the Third Company. Avaro watched as a single terminator smashed aside half a dozen guards with a single swing of his crackling power maul.

Avaro's forces abandoned their close quarters armaments in favour of their Bolters, ejecting empty magazines and slamming fresh ones into the housing as they clambered over the last defence line and into the marble halls of the palace.

The entrance hall was a cavernous affair, tall pillars of startling white marble held aloft the curved ceiling. More of the guards were inside, waiting for their assailants to breach the walls. Those Astartes who were earthbound were forced to pile in through the doors, spreading out and replying to the showers of silver needles with the echoing bark of their Boltguns and the atrium quickly became a swirling maelstrom of blood and noise. Its once tranquil fountains turned red with blood as the weapons of the Astartes formed an orchestra of violent death. Avaro took point, calling squad Orion to his side and charging them forwards, forging a path straight through the middle of the chamber, unperturbed by the incoming fire.

Needles shattered against Avaro's breastplate, some sticking fast in his armour, but failing to penetrate with any kind of depth. Unlike the men who had charged through the doors, the warriors guarding the palace's interior bore heavier armour and held thin scimitars in their gauntleted hands. Avaro reached their foes and swung his chainsword in a wide arc, splitting three men open, their gold armour offering little protection. Another of the K'tari lurched forwards, aiming a blow at Avaro's helmeted head. With a curt backswing, Avaro cleaved the man in two, the blade running from groin to collar with little resistance. Squad Orion divided their fire between their attackers, sending waves of disciplined fire into the ranks of the K'tari guard. Orion lifted his power fist before slamming it into another guard, trying to strike his Captain whilst he was dispatching another. Avaro gave the sergeant a curt nod before raising vox to the rest of his company.

"Hold your ground, Orion with me, we forge on."

Through the dimly lit tunnels expanding beneath the palace's gaudy surface, the ten man squad tracked through the darkness, Bolters raised, the dull glow of their helmet's autolenses the only colour in the blackness. Leering skulls sat in small alcoves either side within the tunnels observing the intruders. Avaro's grip tightened on his chainsword "Stay frosty sergeant" he muttered, Orion nodded. Ahead of them the tunnel turned sharply to the right, the bend decorated by a suit of battered obsidian armour. One by one, each of the Astartes passed the suit. Avaro lingered to inspect it briefly. Across the breastplate and flat surfaces were the dull red sigils that had been seen at sites across the city, religious icons, a mark against the Imperial truth.

The tunnel opened out into a vast circular chamber, lit only by a beam of light in the room's centre, lighting a flat stone tablet, suspended off the floor by some form of arcane science. Hooded figures stood sentinel over the pallid corpse spread across the slab. An Astartes, sporting multiple lacerations across the face and chest. The raven hair and piercing green eyes, similar to Avaro's own stared up at the ceiling, unblinking.

With a series of quick hand gestures and signals, Avaro commanded the squad to spread out, the light distorting compounds in their ceramite armour activating, causing them to almost vanish into the shadows around the edge of the room. Each one screwing a silencer onto the barrel of their Bolters. The scent of incense wafted through Avaro's helmet grill, the alien scent causing him to wrinkle his nose. A low chanting echoed through the chamber, uttered by the robed figures. One of the apparent cultists stepped forwards, lowering his hood to reveal a thin golden crown, topped with a gem of cut onyx. The Emperor laid his hands onto the chest of the dead Astartes and began to recite some strange incantation. Whisps of red energy spiralled through the beam of light above, curling and twisting as though it were alive, tendrils breaking off and reaching for the wounds on the warrior's chest. They had seen enough. Avaro gritted his teeth and lifted an open hand. After a few moments he clenched. The muffled cracks of the silenced Boltguns sounded, almost as one single shot. The cult vanished in a cloud of blood, fragments of bone spinning through the air. In the same instant the Astartes uncloaked and became visible. Avaro darted forwards, into the light and lifted his Bolter, the blackened barrel poised before the Empror's startled face. The man's fear quickly dissolved into rage

"What have you done?" the man spat, the words ill formed and sharp on the ear. Avaro didn't waver

"This war is over" he grunted "cease whatever vile ceremony you are performing and surrender"

"Why?" the man spat

"If you deny us your unconditional surrender, we shall be forced to continue our assault" the captain paused "this could have been avoided, we wanted peace"

"And you brought weapons to force it upon the unwilling" the Emperor growled, reaching into the folds of his robe. Orion's gauntleted hand clamped down on the man's shoulder

"Hands where we can see them" the Sergeant growled. The Emperor withdrew his hand and lifted them so that the rest of the squad could see them

"This is the nature of your Imperium?" the man smirked, Avaro ignored the foul jibe

"Orion, escort him to the extraction point, contact the Chamberlin, tell them to cease the bombardment"

"You shall do nothing!" the old man spat, reaching into the folds of his robe and drawing a thin barrelled pistol. In on swift motion, Avaro reached out, crushing both the weapon and the wielder's hand in his grip. The Emperor howled in pain and attempted to pull his hand free. Avaro released, and their prisoner slumped to the floor, hunched over and staring daggers at the armoured giants around him.

"Don't" Avaro cautioned. But the man didn't listen, he reached out and snatched up his ceremonial dagger before lunging towards Avaro. The tip of Avaro's combat knife pierced the Ktari's chest, halting him in his tracks. Sucking in a series of painful breaths, the Emperor fell to the ground, staring up at Avaro with accusing eyes

"Murderer" he wheezed "murderer" he repeated. Avaro crouched beside the dying man. Cradling his head in his hands, he was old, wrinkles covered his palled face.

"You brought this on yourself" Avaro shook his head "you drew first blood. You forced our hand" taking a firm grip on his combat blade, the Captain delivered the mercy stroke, a clean death, an honourable death. Avaro turned to the body on the slab. Brother Darneus, sent as a negotiator for peace, he'd been cut down shortly after making planetfall, a betrayal of trust, and first blood on the part of the K'tari. "Leave the cadaver for the Apothecaries" Avaro instructed, unclasping his helmet and placing it into the crook of his elbow. With his free hand he reached out and closed the Astartes' blank eyes "For the Second Legion" he muttered. Before turning to take his leave. Something beneath their feet rumbled. Orion turned to his Captain

"What was that?"

Riox went first. Split from shoulder to groin before he could so much as cry out. His body slammed into the ground. Orion turned to face a towering iron giant. Having been activated by some arcane device in the palace's defence system the metal statues began to animate themselves. Hissing and clanking they advanced on the group. Each step cracking the ground beneath their plated boots.

"Form ranks!" Avaro replaced his helmet and thumbed the activation stud on his chainsword and took it in a two handed grip. Bolters were fired an instant later. The explosive rounds slamming into the advancing machines. They showed no signs of slowing. A blade jabbed forwards and slipped under Nestra's guard, and his insides were torn free. Blood sprayed across Avaro's chest. Rage boiled in his blood and he dived forwards, tearing through the iron beast's wrists with a firm backhand strike. The hands fell free and the grinding cogs inside the creatures arm were exposed. Carrying the momentum Avaro struck outwards. The impact slammed into another of the guardians, its chest plate shuddering under the impact. Chunks of metal bounced off of the stone floor. In a sickening moment Avaro realised they were the teeth of his chainsword. Something hard struck him across the back, his head slammed into the ground and the lenses of his helmet cracked. He rolled and felt the juddering impact of automaton's blade beside him.

Antonio unleashed a torrent of fire into the beast, giving his Captain time to retreat back to the group. The squad unleashing magazine after magazine into the guardians. Avaro pulled the helmet from his head and cast it aside before adding his own gun to the battery. The guardian's advance was slow as the rusted gears within their systems strained to keep the monsters upright. Another fresh magazine slammed into Avaro's gun and he sent a torrent of bullets into the face of the closest iron warrior. It paused momentarily before swinging its blade in a wide arc.

"Get down!" Avaro dropped to his knees. But another of the squad was torn apart, his decapitated body sailing across the room and hitting the wall with a sickening crunch.

"It's no good" Antonio sent another column of fire into the beasts. "Their armour's too dense" a voice like a feral roar broke through the fighting. Avaro turned to see Dominus Rax hurl his power axe into the face of the closest guardian, a dozen marines, clad in tactical dreadnought armour stormed into the room and ploughed into the huge monsters. An orchestra of weapons lit up, and peppered the hulking machines, driving them away from the prone squad. The third company powered forwards bellowing battle cries and whooping as they carried out their bloody work. Their power fists smashing into the guardians repeatedly, punching holes in their armour and knocking them to the ground. Rax ran past them and retrieved his axe, giving Avaro a curt nod before joining the fray.


	2. Chapter 2

_+++Chapter 2+++_

With the battle for compliance over, the other vessels of the 73rd expedition fleet returned from their own assignments, gliding through the vacuum of space like vast iron sharks, sidling up to the Legion flagship like Remoras to a whale. The colossal form of _The Chamberlin _loomed above Seventy three- sixteen. The weapon batteries gleaming in the light of the system's sun. The Firefly like forms of two dozen Stormbirds soared through the vacuum before being drawn inside the vast warship. Each ship in the fleet bore a grimacing skull and II sigil on their starboard side, the port host to the ships name, marked on in letters hundreds of feet high. The majority of the ships were Terran, and featured the same design as the ships of their brother Legions. However, it was clear from the less curvaceous form of _The Laertes_ that it was a Tadrellian design, altered slightly to more closely resemble the other ships.

The Shadow Knights, the II of the Legions Astartes. The Sons of Rival as they were often referred, in lieu of their Primarch.

Through the foot thick glass of his private observation platform, the dark silhouette of the Primarch silently observed the return of his sons, eyes flitting from one ship to another, inspecting them for any damage. Once satisfied, he turned his back on the starlit glory of his fleet, and returnedto his chambers.

_'The Chamberlin_'s' main chamber was filled with the scents of cooked meat and Tadrellian spiced rum as the gathered Astartes celebrated their victory. The sloping ceiling was adorned with filigree carvings of iron and bronze, thick supports curving down and meeting above a large stage sculpted from jet black obsidian. Most of the gathered Astartes had the dark ebony hair of a Tadrel born, marking them as newer additions to the Legion, selected from the Primarch's homeworld. There were a few Terran born, but they were marked only by appearance, in gait and in demeanour, they were still Shadow Knights.

Avaro sat with a collection of his Sergeants at one end of the room. Orion was sitting opposite, grinning to himself

"You did well back there" Avaro smiled, gripping a stub of a cigar between his teeth. Orion looked up and smirked

"Not so bad yourself Captain" he winked. The title was new, Avaro had only been in command of the second for little over a year, Seventy three- sixteen had been his first real trial as a Captain, his first taste of leadership. Smoke curled around Avaro's features as he chuckled, giving Orion a boot in the shin beneath the table. The Captain reached up and withdrew the cigar before addressing the rest of the table

"First round's on me" he called out, the conclave voiced their approval and presented their flagons as a servitor trundled over to the table, bearing the weight of a large barrel of rum.

Orion downed his first flagon in a few seconds and slammed it down on the table, before swftly refilling it. They had all substituted their battle plate for fatigues, coloured a dull grey. Avaro lifted his flagon

"To the second!" he called out.

"To the second!" echoed the others. Nihlus placed his flagon down on the table

"Anyone fancy a bout in the combat cages after this?" Brex laughed, before reaching over and grappling his fellow sergeant

"Lighten up brother, let's finish celebrating this victory before we begin preparing for the next eh?" the others laughed. Nihlus smirked

"Perhaps if you spent more time training you'd still be in once piece" he sniggered, rapping a knuckle against Brex' bionic leg. Rather than taking offence, Brex merely assumed a smug grin

"C'mon Nihlus, we all know who I am" he climbed to his feet and raised his flagon "the Immortal sergeant Brex!" the others groaned at the sound of Brex's self-imposed nickname, true enough the sergeant had walked away from engagements that would fell most Astartes, perhaps not always unscathed, but alive. However, this fact had more of an effect on his ego than his ambition.

Avaro smirked

"Maybe next time you'll spearhead the assault with me Brex" he said, leaning back and taking a long draught of spiced rum. Brex shook his head

"You know as well as I Captain that Orion would be forever heartbroken if I took his place at your side." Orion gave Brex a glare of faux anger

"That's if you could maintain the same performance of my squad, Brex" his expression softened.

The jovial engagement was cut short as a the doors at the far end of the chamber were thrust open. The room fell silent, each Astartes placing his flagon on the table and raising to their feet. Black Wardens stepped through the doorway and into the light, aligning themselves on the stage. They were the Primarch's honour guard, each bore a suit of cataphractii tactical dreadnought armour, complete with power fist and thunder hammer, the snub forms of Meltafire pistols maglocked to their thighs. Once a dozen of the fearsome warriors were on the stage, they lifted their hammers before their faces. Then, he appeared. Clad in pitch black fatigues, and a robe embroidered with the II of the II legion, the Primarch presented himself. His features were stern, as if they ahd been forged from hammered steel. His black hair was trimmed short, keeping it out of his eyes and making the tattoo clearly visible. Over one of his sharp emerald eyes the Primarch had had an II tattoed. Even from this distance Avaro could make out a thin layer of stubble over his father's chin. As he walked forwards muscles rippled and twitched beneath his robes, as if in some silent display of power. He towered over his honour guard and paced towards the edge of the stage. There were a few moments silence as the legendary warrior observed his men. Arms folded across his chest. The terrible might of Valdes Rival, Primarch of the II Legion.

The seconds that passed in silence were heavy, forcing the air out of Avaro's lungs, being regarded in such fashion by the Primarch. But as quickly as his discomfort had arisen it vanished, as the Primarch smiled.

"My sons" he said, his deep voice echoing through the chamber "today we have won a great victory, and another compliant world has been added to the growing Imperium of man. But of course you all know this" he added with a sly grin, a low chuckle echoed through the ranks of the gathered Astartes "you have done me proud, proud as any father can be of his children, this victory is yours,enjoy it" he grinned "and will somebody _please _get me a flagon?" the room exploded with laughter, the Primarch contributing most of all. Marcus Epoch, Captain of the 1st Company leaped up onto the stage and handed the Primarch a battered metal tankard. The colossal figure took it, placing a hand on Epoch's shoulder and raising the flagon "to the II legion!" he called out. Two hundred flagons were lifted in response

"To the II legion!"

The room quickly returned to its former raucous celebration. A table was carried onto the stage by a handful of Veterans so that the Primarch could drink seated. Avaro remained staring in the Primarchs direction, after most others had returned to their drinks. His trance like state was broken only by the sound of his name

"Captain Avaro." The Captain turned in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. Before the table stood one of the armour clad warriors of the Black Wardens

"Yes?" he replied. The rest of the table had all fallen silent

"The Primarch wishes for you to join him for a drink" the man stated "provided you are not otherwise engaged"

"Now?" the Black warden smirked

"Yes lad, now." Avaro gave a cursory look to his sergeants, all of whom were grinning ear to ear

"Lead on brother" Avaro got to his feet, flagon in hand, and the Black warden bowed, before trudging over to the stage.

The Primarch sat at the head of the large stone table, flagon in hand, and deep in conversation with Dreyphus Pyke, his equerry and leader of the Black Wardens. Epoch was sitting to his right, silently listening to Rival's words. Rax was there too, along with a few other Captains that Avaro didn't recognise. The conversation ended as Avaro arrived. The Primarch's face lit up

"There he is, the famed Pup, take a seat lad" Avaro seated himself beside Rax, opposite the Primarch

"Pyke was just regaling me with the details of the battle on Seventy three- sixteen, quite an impressive victory Captain" Avaro bowed his head

"It was nothing my lord"

"You may dispense with the formalities Captain, this is a celebration not a war council" Avaro lifted his head, smiling sheepishly

"My apologies." Waving his hand the Primarch lifted his flagon to his lips

"None necessary." He emptied the flagon, downing the contents in a matter of seconds. A servitor behind him scurried over and refilled the container, before darting off again

"So, I believe this is the first time we have met properly" Rival smiled "I have heard much about you Avaro, I'm sure you have a few tales to tell"

"A few" Avaro admitted, taking a sip of rum.

"I should like to hear one at some point, when you're not too busy" Rival said, leading forwards, resting his huge forearms on the table.

"I'm sure I could find the time" Avaro replied, smiling. Rival nodded

"I'm glad to hear that" he turned to Epoch "Marcus, where have you been hiding this boy?" Epoch chuckled

"I have hidden him nowhere Primarch, the Second Captain is mostly preoccupied, training aboard _The Hammerfell _with the rest of his company" Rival nodded in approval

"A good General leads by example" he stated, before draining another flagon

"Speaking of which, will you be leading us in our next endeavour?" Epoch asked raising an eyebrow. In most Legions, that form of talk would incur severe punishment. Avaro awaited his Primarch's response with baited breath.

"Aye" Rival lowered his flagon "it was a shame I could not join you today. But there were matters that needed seeing to, my brother, the Warmaster has informed me that there is a resurgence on a compliant world. A problem I'm sure we can lay to rest."

"What sort of problem?" Rax grunted, throwing back his own flagon and emptying it without a thought. The Primarch grinned

"A problem of the green variety. It seems my Brother Lorgar is unable to adequately deal with an ork insurgence." The group chuckled.

The rivalry between the Shadow Knights and the other Legions ran deep, especially with those who pretended to be better or tougher than they were. The likes of the Emperor's Children, Ultramarines and Word Bearers struck little joy in the hearts of the II Legion when they were forced to fight beside them, they bore closer ties to the more unruly Legions; The Luna Wolves, The White Scars and the headstrong Space Wolves.

"Never send a preacher to do a soldier's job" Rax growled, a few other Captains nodded in agreement. Rival raised a hand

"Let's not be unfair, the Word Bearers have played their part in the Crusade, let's not resort to resentment Captain." Rax bowed his head

"I apologize my lord" he replied. Rival's expression softened

"It's nothing" The Primarch lay his flagon down on the table and straightened up "I fear I must depart, for now at least, battle plans must be drawn up and routes plotted" he sighed "how I hate paperwork" the gathered Captains smirked, as if in agreement "I hope to see you all at the briefing" he stated, before turning his eye to Avaro "some of you before then. But for now" he bowed his head and exited through the gilded doors, followed by his Black Wardens.


	3. Chapter 3

_++ Chapter 3 ++_

Another marine slammed into the ground, blood trickling from his nose. Rax lifted his fists and laughed. The training sphere echoed with the cheers and whoops of two dozen marines as the challenger was pulled to his feet.

With the celebrations of their past victory over the II Legion had begun transit, and as such training was the first thing on most of their minds.

Avaro stood at the edge of the cage and watched as another of Rax' warriors stepped forward to challenge his Captain. Rax was bare chested, showing off his huge physique to the crowd, slabs of solid muscle covered his arms and chest. He was larger than most Space Marines, about half a foot taller than Avaro. When in terminator armour Rax resembled nothing less than a giant. The new challenger rubbed his hands together as he circled the seemingly prone Captain. The man leapt forward and swung his fist at the back of Rax's head. A split second before impact, Rax turned and caught the blow in his huge hand. He twisted it sharply before booting his opponent in the diaphragm, winding him. In that moment of weakness, Rax administered a hail of hammer like blows, knocking the Astartes to the ground. With gritted teeth the warrior forced himself upright. Then Rax struck him with a solid punch to the face. Avaro folded his arms across his chest. Orion had worked his way through the crowd so was standing closer to the front, cheering and clapping as another challenger was carted off.

"Has the Second no warriors left? Who's next?" Rax opened his arms and addressed the crowd "c'mon!"

"Avaro" Orion turned around, a big grin plastered across his face "you'll take him won't you Captain." Rax was looking at him now, hands on hips and smirking.

"I'd rather not" Avaro shook his head

"Come now Captain, how often do the men get to see two Captains spar?" The mob of marines were all looking at him now, the pressure seemed to manifest, he could feel it bearing down on him. He shook his head and began walking towards the cage door. A cheer rose up and the crowd parted to allow Avaro into the ring. He stopped in front of Orion to remove his shirt and ram it into his friend's chest.

"Go get him Captain" Orion smirked

"Bastard" Avaro grinned. He stepped forwards into the cage and lifted his fists. Rax grinned and ran his tongue along his teeth. The two warriors circled each other, their eyes locked, their fists up. Avaro swung first a. Rax intercepted and slammed an open palm into his chest. He stumbled back, having just enough time to recover before Rax' fist hit him in the face. He hit the ground hard. But climbed to his feet, and lifted his fists again,

"Nice swing." Rax raised an eyebrow and took a firmer footing. Avaro managed to read Rax' movements and moved just in time. Rax' meteor like fist missed his face by mere millimetres. In a blur of motion Avaro seized Rax' wrist and swept his legs out from under him, he twisted sharply, forcing Rax's arm behind his back as he landed. As Rax hit the ground, the crowd fell silent, before erupting in a clamour of shouting and whooping. But Rax wasn't done. He yanked his arm free of Avaro's grip and got to his feet, Avaro managed to stand before Rax delivered his retort, rapidly alternating between his left and right fists. Each impact forced Avaro to step backwards. He finally came to his senses and lifted his guard. Rax lowered his attacks and grabbed Avaro's waist, hoisting him into the air, before trying to slam him down. As Avaro fell, he twisted and rammed both his palms into the back of Rax' head. The Third Captain fell to his hands and knees. Avaro gave him a firm boot in the side, Rax grabbed it and pulled hard. Again Avaro hit the ground, this time Rax was upon him, laying into him with both fists. As Avaro raised his guard he tasted blood. He had no chance of winning while he lay on his back. Rax' blows slowed for a second and Avaro seized his chance. His fist came up between Rax' arms and hit him under the chin, the attacks faltered and Avaro scrambled to his feet. Rax too was up fists raised. They circled one another, panting slightly. Rax rolled his shoulders

"You're good, pup" he smirked

"Thanks" Avaro grinned and swung a right hook. It struck Rax' jaw and he took a step back before returning the favour. As the two exchanged punches the crowd grew more and more silent, it seemed as though the two were evenly matched. Rax lifted his foot and booted Avaro in the stomach, he fell forwards onto his hands and knees. The foot returned and hit his face. He flipped over onto his back. Rax towered over him and looked down

"You done?" he cocked his head to one side. Avaro hauled himself up and spat, blood splattered the ground at Rax' feet, Avaro winked and raised his fists "son of a bitch" Rax breathed.

"Another round?"

"Why not?" Rax darted forwards and began throwing punches. Avaro blocked each and retaliated accordingly. They continued, blow for blow for several minutes. As they became wise to each other's style, the attacks flew quicker and more brutal. Avaro broke the chain with a sharp uppercut. Rax' head jerked backwards. Avaro jumped and planted both feet into Rax' chest. They both fell to the ground. They got up and locked eyes. Neither willing to back down. Then Rax bolted forwards and landed a solid blow on Avaro's chest. The strike lifted him into the air and sent him careening into the cage wall before crashing down on the ground. He looked up. Rax was standing over him, offering a hand. Avaro smiled and took it.

"You did good boy" Rax said. Avaro nodded,

"You too… not bad for an older man" Rax smirked and the two walked to the cage door. The crowd was still silent. Avaro turned and placed a hand on the third Captain's shoulder, Rax frowned. Avaro grinned before spinning, pulling Rax onto his hip and flipping him into the ground. A gasp echoed from the arranged Astartes, Avaro's smile dropped as he realised he may have taken things too far. Rax looked up at him, murder in his eyes. He opened his mouth but instead of bellowing an enraged warcry, he started laughing, a harsh booming bark. He got to his feet and slapped the young Captain on the back.

"Not bad" he repeated. Avaro nodded

"Thanks for the lesson." The two exited the cages and Orion handed back his Captain's shirt. Rax rolled his shoulders, a heavily scarred warrior trudged over to Rax and smirked

"Not bad Captain, but then again, unarmed combat was never your strong suit" Rax chuckled wryly

"I'm more than happy to pick up my axe Vulf" he replied. Avaro and Orion looked on as the two exchanged their little light hearted barbs.

"As much as I'd like the practice, the First Captain has sent for you" Vulf grunted. Rax nodded

"Probably to make sure I'll be presentable for the Primarch's war council" he rumbled "I take it Skraal will meet us aboard"

"Aye sir" Rax turned to the two Astartes of the Second

"Looks like we'll have to save our rematch for later pup" he grinned, nodding curtly before striding across the room and out of the access portal, Vulf in his wake.

Skraal and Vulf Avaro knew by reputation, two of Rax' closest sergeants, his right and left hands respectively, both renowned for their ferocity, even if it was eclipsed by that of their Captain.

Orion let out a low whistle

"So that was Vulf, not quite as aggressive as I expected." Avaro chuckled

"That's because he's among friends" he replied pulling his robe like fatigue over his head and walking towards the exit portal.

* * *

Epoch looked up and smiled as he saw Avaro. The first Captain's armour was polished to a glimmering sheen, the silver of his Aquila matching his Mark IV helmet. The crest of which had been brushed. He walked over and cuffed his brother Captain on the shoulder. Avaro smiled

"Glad you decided to join us" he grinned. Rax' plate had also been cleaned; Avaro almost didn't recognise him not splattered with mud and blood. Thorn was there too, without his cumbersome jump pack. He nodded curtly before walking over to join them

"Good to see you" he said. Avaro wasn't sure if the comment was sincere. "I'm sorry not to have spoken to you sooner" Thorn said, the hint of a smile appearing on his face "I don't believe I've fought beside you yet, save for the events on Seventy three- sixteen"

"No, I've never had the honour" Avaro smiled. Thorn cocked his head

"You flatter me Captain" Avaro shrugged.

The other Captain Avaro recognised as Rogann, master of the sixth company. They had spoken a little on planetfall. No doubt they would speak more over the coming battles. The doors to the Primarch's court opened and Epoch turned.

"It's time" he said "follow my lead" he winked and the Astartes formed ranks before marching through into the chamber.

The room was a huge and circular, a beautifully crafted wooden table formed a circle in the room's centre, above them, a large balcony leading to the Primarch's chambers, silver railings ran along the balcony's edge and down the staircase that circled the wall, terminating beside the table. The room was elegant but in keeping with the simplistic and humble nature of the Legion's origins banners representing the Legion's companies hung from the walls. The Primarch was stood atop the staircase clad in full battle plate. The heavy segments of reinforced ceramite polished to a shine, his plumed knights helm held in the crook of one arm, after a few moments he began to descend walking down the staircase, in slow calculated steps. The gathered Captains dropped to one knee and placed their fists to their chests

"Hail, Primarch of the II Legion" the all shouted in unison. Rival walked around the table and seated himself in a throne at the tables head

"Please be seated" he requested, gesturing to the chairs arranged around the table, all angled so that they could see the holopict projector in the centre of the table. Avaro took his place between Epoch and Rax and waited for the Primarch to speak. The dark form of Dreyphus Pyke stood at the edge of the room, silently observing the meeting. Rival manipulated the data slate in the arm of his throne and the lights dimmed, the holopicter lit up and a glowing image of their destination loomed overhead

"Vermire" the Primarch stated "originally brought to compliance by the Word Bearers, it resides at the edge of Imperial Space and remains one of the furthest colonised worlds from Terra that we control. For whatever reason, the Orks indigenous to the planet have returned, through a possible fault of the Word bearers" the Primarch tapped data slate and the image stopped rotating, three areas became highlighted in orange "our primary objective is the securing the settlements still under construction, and in that respect the 8th Company will take charge, fortifying what they can, but I will be relying on the First Second and Third Companies will clear the Orks from the Area, and launch precision strikes in areas with higher Ork concentrations outside the city limits" Rival turned his eye to Epoch "find the Ork Warlords and slaughter them, that will make the forces within the city and assailing it lose composure and make them easier to repel."

"What of air support?" Strom replied, Rival nodded

"That relates to deployment, it won't be enough to land within the cities, and a conventional air drop will likely leave our forces ill prepared, we'll be going in hot. Whatever orbital weapons weren't dismantled may be turned on us on entry, we'll need your best pilots"

"I have a few in mind" Strom replied, a grin materialising on his face.

"Once we are established on the planet we begin the second stage of our attack, we take the fight to the greenskins, march on foot to the heavily populated areas and systematically clear them out. Unfortunately that is all we can plan prior to deployment, the Orks are too unpredictable to put a full battle plan in place, but it's likely the first two stages will consume the best part of three months" the officers looked to one another, Rival noted their unease

"This'll be a good one lads, plenty to kill, a cull plain and simple." Rival ran a finger along the data slate and the room brightened up, the holopict dissipating. The Primarch remained stationary for a few moments "thoughts?" Epoch stroked his chin

"Any information as to numbers?"

"I'm afraid not, we've got no eyes there, we're sending the Eighth to gather intel before the rest of the fleet arrives, they'll gather information on numbers and tell us just what we're dealing with."

"Where's Ulrich?" Rax grunted

"We'll rendezvous with them when we reach Vermire, they're refortifying Seventy three- sixteen, readying it for colonisation." He raised an eyebrow "is that all?" silence was all he got as a reply, he rose to his feet "train your men, with any luck we should have this incursion dealt with in a few months, dismissed." The Astartes rose to their feet, tucking their helmets under their arms. The Primarch remained seated as his Captains filed out.

Rival stood alone in his council chamber, save for the Black Warden in the shadows behind him. Pyke took a few steps forwards, his war ravaged face entering the light

"You disapprove I take it?" Rival smirked. Pyke paced around the table so that he was opposite his liege lord

"No" he said curtly "the plan seems sound, I'm just concerned" Rival lifted an eyebrow

"Concerned? Care to explain Commander?" Pyke didn't falter, he'd been the equerry to the Primarch since he had been recovered by the Emperor on Tadrel.

"I don't like being this far away from the other Legions" Pyke stated

"You think we can't do this alone?" Rival asked, his tone remaining steady

"No, I just don't think it wise, if something were to happen elsewhere we wouldn't be reachable, you've heard the reports from the Astropaths, the Warp is growing increasingly turbulent"

"What would you have me do Dreyphus? The Warmaster himself has chosen to deploy us that far away, and we are to follow his instructions" Rival's temper flared slightly, but his ire quickly died down "I will consult my brother, Dreyphus, but I doubt he will change his mind" Pyke nodded

"I apologise my Lord, I spoke out of term…" Rival lifted his hand

"You spoke your mind, and that is why I count you among my closest friends" he smiled "you tell me when I'm being a stupid bastard, even when no-one else will."

Pyke chuckled

"Few others have the strength" he joked. Rival nodded, still smiling broadly

"I had best send word to the choir, I want to get hold of Horus as soon as possible.

"I shall carry your summons myself" Pyke bowed before exiting the Primarch's war room.

Alone in his Chambers, the Primarch paced, back and forth across the carpeted floor. The room was simple as were his needs for it. It was bare, save for a few trophies, remnants of his days as a militia on Tadrel, fighting in the rebellion, for the liberation of his people. A portrait of his wife hung above the fireplace, which was presently alight with green fire. He paused in his pacing to look up at the painting, at the smiling face looking down at him

"I'll be home soon Serena" he muttered "I promise" a dull knock echoed through the room "enter" he called out. The wizened form of Kybal, the Chamberlin's Astropath pushed open the door, leaning heavily on his staff as he walked towards where the Primarch was standing, he bowed low

"My Lord" he croaked

"Word from my brother?" Rival asked bluntly, the Astropath nodded

"Aye, my Lord. He requests that you continue with deployment as planned" Rival sighed

"How soon can we begin transit? Is the Warp calm enough?"

"All we require is your word my Lord" the Astropath replied, Rival rounded the table, taking a seat

"Consider it given, order the fleet to mobilise"

"Aye sir" the Astropath bowed and exited, as quickly as he had arrived. The Primarch turned to observe the fleet through the vast sheet of reinforced glass behind him

"What are you planning Horus?" he muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

_+++Chapter 4+++_

"Enter" the word rumbled from behind the vast Iron doors. Much like the rest of _The Chamberlin _the design bore more on the side of functionality, than finery. The doors opened and the Primarch lifted his eyes from the mounds of parchment on his desk. His face lit up as Avaro entered

"Ah, Captain, I appreciate you taking the time to see me" he smiled. Nathan was astounded that the Primarch of all people would make such a statement; a being such as him surely had more to occupy his time than most. Rival gestured to the papers littering his desk. "Beurocracy" he grunted "never been able to stomach it." He chuckled, climbing to his feet "still, we have to keep these dusty bookkeepers informed, so unfortunately for me" he gestured again to the papers.

Avaro had remained standing in the centre of the large chamber whilst the Primarch spoke to him. Clad in his dull fatigues he felt a little out of place in the presence of the Primarch, the unfortunate fact was that he had little to wear other than his battle plate, and the Primarch's summons had requested that he not be dressed for war. The chamber bore little in the way of furniture, making the Primarch's high backed chair and desk seem all the more imposing, behind which was a huge observation window, allowing the Primarch to observe the fleet should he chose to do so. Battle trophies were the only real decoration, making the room resemble a larger version of a Legionnaire's chambers. Leering skulls of long dead Xenos foes glared down at the young Captain from the walls, amidst broken firearms and exotic looking weapons, some Avaro recognised as Tadrellian, possibly meaning they had belonged to the Primarch back in the liberation days of his Legion's home world. Above the green flames of the fire hung a large portrait of a woman. Her hair raven black, as with all Tadrel born, her lips were drawn up in an affectionate smile. Rival caught his gaze and walked over to stand beside him "my bride" he stated. Avaro didn't stir, captivated by the woman in the painting.

"She's beautiful my Lord" Avaro replied

"And yet she chose me" the Primarch joked. He gestured to one of the high backed chairs near the fire, whilst walking back to retrieve his own from the desk. Avaro seated himself and awaited his Primarch's return. "I'm the only Primarch to take a wife, did you know that?" he asked, Avaro shook his head. Rival placed the chair down and seated himself, staring into the green flames "sometimes I wonder if my brothers have the capacity to love a human" he stated "for all our values and vows to protect humanity and ensure its dominance, can you really protect what you cannot love?"

"I had never given it thought my Lord" Avaro admitted. Rival shook his head

"We are in private Captain, you may call me Valdes"

"My apologies, Valdes" Rival nodded in approval

"I suppose I should tell you why I summoned you here. Other than to talk about love of course" the last sentence took on a more jovial tone, Avaro chuckled a little

"That thought had crossed my mind"

"Do you remember the promise you made me at the victory celebration?" Rival turned to face him, his emerald eyes glinting in the light from the fire.

"You wish to hear a war story" Avaro confirmed, the Primarch nodded. Racking his brain for a tale worthy of a Primarch Avaro shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The Primarch noticed

"Any tale will do, I assure you I've likely heard worse."

"I suppose the war on sixty three fifteen would be most to your liking"

"Ah, the Eldar" Rival nodded in approval "your crowning glory." Avaro smiled

"My Company's crowning glory" he corrected. Rival laughed

"My mistake. Tell me of sixty three fifteen then Nathan." Growing slightly more comfortable in the war god's presence Avaro adjusted himself in his seat.

"When we assaulted the Eldar citadel, I was still in command of a single squad, the one that now belongs to Sergeant Orion. Captain Pax was leading us, once the breaching teams broke through the outer walls we stormed in, Pax at the forefront, myself and the rest of the company dutifully following. I remember the bolts of energy as they flew past, those tiny disks the Xenos guns were firing. First time I'd ever seen the Eldar since basic training. We destroyed the guns we had been asked to target without issue. The rest of the Legion assailing the various other portions of the structure. For the most part we were on our own. Then the Wraith Lord arrived. Wreathed in flames the creature appeared in a rent in the building's inner wall, created in the bombardments most likely. Pax wasn't even phased, ordering us into fire teams to lay down a suppressive volley. But the Xenos machine was too fast, damn near wiped out half the squad before Pax intervened, using his sword to deflect a blow meant for me. The creature picked him up and just… crushed him" Avaro paused in his account for a moment, as if to honour the fallen Captain "the rest of the unit scattered as soon as the Captain fell. I don't know why, but I started issuing orders to the rest of the Company, telling them to push up and continue the assault whilst myself and the rest of my squad dealt with the Wraithlord. The thing was so fast, darting from one side to the other, avoiding our fire and releasing volleys of its own. But the lads held strong, we didn't take any casualties thank throne. I could see the battle wasn't going to end at range, so I engaged. I only had a Chainsword; the melta bombs were long gone. To be honest my lord, the fight itself is more of a blur, I can't so much provide a blow by blow, it was just… brutality. The mechanical Eldar launching punishing blows with its sword, whilst I dodged around it and struck with my Chainsword where the joints were. After a while it scored a line across my breastplate and in a fit of rage I managed to cleave through its knee. I'll never forget the scream until the day I die, it seemed as though it echoed through my mind, clawing at my soul. I took the pommel of my weapon, and smashed through its seamless face, took a fair few hits before it finally broke through. Then I plunged the whirring teeth into its inner workings and killed it." The Captain looked up, having been lost in the green embers of the fire. The Primarch was sitting perfectly still, silently observing him; he had remained perfectly silent throughout the story. After a few moments pause he cleared his throat to speak

"You did your Captain proud Nathan" he said. Avaro smiled weakly

"If I had done that, he would still be my Captain" he replied. Rival shrugged

"Pax did what he needed to, as did you. Thank you for sharing that with me." Avaro smiled

"It's nothing Primarch"

"You have a talent for story telling" Rival got to his feet and walked over to a small table, almost concealed behind his desk. Lifting a battered Iron flagon, he began to fill it from the jug resting beside it. He poured a second for Avaro before returning. He handed one of the flagons to Avaro before resuming his seat. The contents of the flagon was dark, smelling both bitter and sweet at the same time, the Captain took a swig. The bitter tang of the rum washed over his taste buds and sparking something deep in his brain.

"What is this?" Avaro asked

"Tadrellion rum" Rival answered " from the home world itself, better that most of the stuff we drink after victories, doesn't hold a candle to the real thing" Rival lifted his own flagon and took a gulp of his drink.

"How long do you think we will be at war on Vermire?" Avaro asked. The Primarch shook his head

"Depends on how deep the infestation runs. I've sent word to the 86th fleet, requesting they join us when their work on eighty six-nine is done."

"You think we will require two thirds of the Legion to deal with this Ork Incursion?" Avaro was taken aback, usually the 73rd fleet could handle most issues on its own, the 86th were only sent for should the Legion require additional support.

"We may" Rival nodded "moreover, the more men we have the faster we shall have the green skins dealt with, and the sooner the Legion will be able to return home." Avaro felt a bolt of excitement strike him

"We will return to Tadrel after the Orks are dealt with?"

"I doubt it; the Warmaster will probably have other tasks for us to attend to. I fear we shall not set eyes on Tadrel for a long time."


	5. Chapter 5

_+++Chapter 5+++_

Dirt and shrapnel buffeted Avaro's armour. He sprinted down the length of the trench as the explosions hit. Orange flames struck him across the chest and he was thrown backwards. He crashed down into the mud but was on his feet before another explosive hit. The ground trembled as the enemy tanks advanced

"Second Company, fall back to the second level. Withdraw, I repeat, withdraw" More shells hit and Avaro crouched, placing his shoulder against the cracked mud wall. He lifted his bolter and fired blindly over the lip of the trench, unsure at whether or not the attack was worth it. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the incoming Orks, their feral war cries carting across the flat expanse beyond city limits. He gritted his teeth and sprinted down the trench, bounding over the bodies of fallen Astartes and guardsman. Blood and mud caked his plated boots. There were shapes up ahead, more Astartes, clad in the dark silver of the II legion. Avaro recognised them as Sixth company, Rogann's boys. He stopped

"We're falling back" he bellowed over the cacophony of gunshots sounding overhead.

"We have wounded" one of them informed him, gesturing to a helmless marine, blood trickling from the fleshy pulp that had once been his left leg. His Laraman's organ had sealed it off as best it could and no doubt his armour was pumping him full of stims. But even so the man could feel it. His teeth were gritted, his fists clenched

"We're not leaving without him" one of them said flatly. Avaro nodded. He crouched and put the marine's arm around his shoulder and hoisted him up

"Follow my lead" Avaro ordered, he turned to the crippled man on his shoulder "Can you hold a weapon" he nodded and Avaro handed him a bolt pistol before trudging through the mud towards the second line of defence.

The guns of the imperium roared in response to the oncoming tide of enemies. The heavy mortar's launched explosives into the air, that then became a deadly hail as they fell to earth.

"Keep the pressure on!" Epoch barked. Another torrent of fire poured from the amassed guns of the First and Seventh companies. The Second and Sixth were still coming in, the damn Orks had sent nothing short of a sea to engage the first spearhead. Epoch lifted his bolter and joined the fuselage. A shout announced the arrival of the Imperial soldiers from the front line. Bound in blood soaked black fatigues and howling in pain they came in, flanked by Astartes and other soldiers.

"What news?" Epoch asked

"Imperial numbers are down" one of the marines responded "Astartes have taken a few casualties but still strong enough to fight." Epoch nodded "Is the Captain back yet?" Epoch stopped before turning around to face the Astartes again. He recognised him

"Orion?"

"Yes sir" he nodded

"Avaro has yet to return"

"Requesting permission to go back out there sir"

"Denied" Epoch shook his head "the Captain can look after himself, I need you here. We need as many Astartes as possible to hold the line" Orion nodded, reluctance hiding behind his determined expression. Epoch walked further into the trench. Rogann was organising his men, redeploying them to weaker areas in the defences. The Sixth Captain was drenched in mud and blood, his men had been on the front line, but he'd managed to keep them together long enough to organise a steady withdrawal. Rogann turned

"I'm missing two squads" he announced. Epoch nodded

"Keep me informed, there are still men coming in. There's a chance they're out there"

"LEFT SIDE!" Avaro bellowed. Two bolters turned to the group's left and barked the shattered Ork bodies slammed into the mud. The seven Astartes thundered down the trench, a second man had helped Avaro carry the wounded warrior. They were nearing the second level of defence now. Glowing bolts flashed through the air above their heads as the Astartes bore the brunt of the oncoming assault. The two men at the back turned on their heels and began moving backwards, sending sharp calculated shots back into the Orks as they began to overrun the trench.

"They'll ignite the charges any minute" Avaro shouted "pick up the pace!"

Epoch gritted his teeth as he saw more Orks pouring into the trenches. There was no time left, he had to set off the explosives. He ran to the heavy weapons case at the far end of the trench and lifted the detonation device. He closed his eyes

"Forgive me" the button clicked.

The shockwave hit first, hurling the greenskins several feet backwards. The flames came next. Swallowing screaming figures like some foul beast. The heat melted through the armour plates of the ramshackle vehicles within seconds, vaporising every greenskin in the blast radius. But the charges weren't strong enough to melt through the reinforced ceramite of the Legion's Mark IV plate.

Avaro lifted his face from the mud, his ears were ringing but his body quickly adapted and the sound was gone. He turned to check the others. Several more were wounded, of the six that were accompanying him, only two remained seemingly unharmed. They began climbing to their feet. Avaro retrieved the wounded man and trudged towards the second level.

Epoch lowered the magnoculars as he finished surveying the damage

"It forced them back" he announced

"I should bloody well hope so" Avaro grunted. Epoch turned, a grin broke out beneath his helm

"Glad you made it Nathan" he turned and locked the magnoculars to his belt "but we're not finished yet" Stormbirds screamed overhead, bearing the markings of the Fifth Company. The ships unleashed their payloads, hurling volleys of missiles down into the waves of approaching Orks, Fire Raptors followed, their heavy bolters churning out shells, swathes of Orks vanished in an thick cloud of blood. Avaro drew his chainsword and climbed into view of the assembled Astares he raised Vox

"Second Company arrange into fire teams and set up a suppressive line, heavy weapons teams, spread out for max coverage" runes blinked across the Captain's heads up display as each squad confirmed their orders.

Squads of Astartes thundered down the trench network, slamming fresh mags into their weapons and taking potshots at the advancing Orks. Heavy Bolter teams got into position, adjusting their weight to accept the heavy kick of the guns as they hurled fistfuls of shells into the advancing masses. The Ork onslaught had been slowed, the bulk of their forces had been destroyed in the detonations, all that was left was to mop up and move on.

The tide ebbed away, the waves turning to a slow trickle. Avaro ejected an empty magazine and lifted his smoking Bolter

"Hostiles neutralised, primary position cleared" he reported

"Confirmed, good work Captain" Came the Primarch's response.

The drop site had been cleared, and the Northern territory of the largest settlement had been sealed off, the Orks were held back by the Vengeance weapon batteries and Tarrantula emplacements put in place by the Astartes on planetfall.

The Primarch inspected the stats from the first enguagements, thumbing through the steams of data on a dataslate

"Begin deployment of the tank regiments" he instructed "I want this settlement secured"

"Aye sir" the Iron Brother bowed his head and exited the Primarch's Stormbird. Avaro and Epoch walked up the access ramp, in perfect lockstep, they both raised their right fist to their chest

"Primarch" Epoch grunted. Rival lifted his head from the reports

"Well done my sons" he said, casting aside another Data slate "now we deliver a hammer blow to make sure the Orks don't retaliate any time soon. I shall lead the spearhead myself." Epoch nodded

"Aye my Lord." The two Captains evacuated the Stormbird and broke into a heavy jog as they joined their companies and loaded into the waiting Stormbirds, the anvil was in place, now all that was required was the hammer.

* * *

Bringing his chainsword down, Avaro cleaved an Ork from shoulder to groin before kicking the body aside. With a practiced hand he lifted and emptied his bolt pistol into the mass of Orks still charging towards the Astartes battle line. Through the bloody melee Avaro could still see the Primarch, Thunder hammer swinging from one side to the next, pulverising green skins with each swing. He lifted his Meltafire cannon and vaporised a large mob of Orks in a blaze of molten metal.

"For the Glory of the II Legion!" he bellowed over the vox link. Avaro roared a battlecry of his own and launched himself into another group of Orks, with a series of brutal swings he cleaved a bloody path to the rest of Squad Orion. The Sergeant was swatting their seemingly innumerable foes into pulp. The rest of the unit emptying magazine after magazine into the ranks of green skins. Orion dropped and empty mag and slammed the pistol against his thigh, jamming in a fresh clip that was tethered to his belt. With a practiced hand he reloaded the gun and lifted it.

"Nice to see you Captain" he bellowed over the cacophony of gunshots

"Likewise" Avaro grinned beneath his helmet, taking his chainsword in a two handed grip and jamming the tip of the blade into the throat of an Ork as it lifted a hammer to try and crush him. He thumbed the activation stud and the serrated teeth of the weapon sliced through the beast's jugular with a high pitched squeal. Blood flew from the wound in a thick torrent, spattering across Avaro's helmet and covering his optics. Orion turned his pistol on the beast and blew it open with a three round burst from his bolt pistol. Yanking off his helmet and hurling it aside Avaro activated his vox bead

"Second Company, close up" the thunderous roar of two dozen bolters drowned out the cries of the Orks as the secondary suppression teams moved up.

The ramshackle Ork settlement had been filled with the foul Xenos upon the arrival of the First, Second and Third companies, but the beasts hadn't been able to withstand the force of the Legion's spearhead.

"Third Company, coming in" the announcement crackled over the vox, as the flare of a dozen drop pods appeared in the sky above them. Avaro dived backwards as the first of the vehicles struck the ground, blood exploded from the scorched underside as the machines crushed Orks beneath their weight. In an explosion of pressurised gas, the assault ramps were blown open and the terminator armour clad Third company were disgorged. Lightning claws flashed, effortlessly slicing through the piecemeal armour of the aliens and reducing them to little more than chunks of green flesh. Rax crashed into a colossal beast, its entire left arm replaced by a pneumatic claw. He bludgeoned the monster to the ground with the hilt of his combi bolter before burying his axe into its chest. The Primarch ascended a mound of bodies and lifted his hammer

"One last push brothers" he bellowed, without the aid of helmet augs or vox links. The Second company responded in kind, locking their ranged weapons to their thighs before drawing their pistols and serrated combat blades and hurling themselves into the Orks. Avaro smashed one of the beasts to the ground with his shoulder and hacked through another on his way towards Rax. The Third Captain was already soaked in Ork blood, swinging his axe with brutal force or shattering bones with the butt of his gun. Avaro wasn't even sure the thing was loaded, that or in the thrill of battle Rax had forgotten to pull the trigger.

Another mob or Orks in an explosion of red smoke as the Primarch fired off another shot with his custom built weapon. Avaro reached Rax's side, Rax had already discarded his own helmet and his thick black hair was matted with blood.

"How you holding up Pup?" Rax grunted, lunging forwards and lopping the head off of another Ork. Bullets stitched the ground at their feet as a group of green skins opened fire with their crude firearms, large assortments of weapons, bolted together on large rigs. Rax barged Avaro aside and took the brunt of the salvo, the bullets harmlessly pattering against his Cataphractii terminator armour. Avaro drew his bolter and fired over his brother Captain's shoulder, bursting the head of the front most greenskin. The body convulsed and twisted sharply, the trigger of the gun rig still pressed, the Gatling gun like weapon tore through the others in the fire team, ripping them limb from limb.

"Neutralised" Avaro grunted, Rax straightened up and hefted his axe into a two handed grip

"Let's finish this" he snarled.

The final push, as the Primarch had phrased it, lasted little over a few hours. With the Greenskins sent running by the sheer force of the Astartes assault. Splinter fragments of the horde had retreated into the desert beyond their crude settlement, assault squads and bike mounted units had been dispatched to run them down, whilst the three companies forming the spearhead regrouped and disposed of the bodies.

Mounds of corpses were wreathed in flames as the Legion support teams brought their flamers to bear, torching the bodies to ensure the spores wouldn't be spread and the whole ordeal wouldn't happen again.

Avaro halted one of the sergeants in order to light a cigar with the weapon's pilot light. The Marine smirked before setting about his work. Gripping the cigar between his teeth, Avaro returned to the impromptu war council. Epoch and Rax were by the Primarch's side, inspecting readouts as they were relayed by the Fifth Company and scouting forces.

"The Orks are scattered, it doesn't look as if there were any major warlords here" Rival grunted, his frustration mirrored on his face.

"Makes sense" Epoch leaned on his halberd "we've only claimed the smallest settlement, the likelihood is the major warlords will be held up in the largest of the three hives." Epoch turned to the Primarch, who was still staring intently at the reports

"Getting there will be no meagre feat" he grunted, casting the slate aside, it landed in the sand a little way off with a dull thud. "We'll go there on foot, wipe out each and every settlement in our path, it's the only way to be sure"

"Do we have time for a war of attrition my lord?" Epoch asked

"Do you have somewhere else to be Captain?" The Primarch asked, his mouth twitching into a smile. Epoch reciprocated

"No my lord"

"Excellent, we'll hold position here and wait for the tank regiments before advancing into the desert" Rival announced, placing the head of his hammer in the ground and resting a hand on it.


	6. Chapter 6

_+++Chapter 6+++_

**_Xyath opened his eyes, stirring from his deep meditation. With a wave of his hand the lithe Xeno opened his bone cocoon and stepped out into the dimly lit apex. The Farseer paced the length of the room before turning to the myriad of soul stones adorning the far wall_**

**_"Ulwin" he called out. One of the stones began to glow and within a few moments the whisps of ethereal energy manifested into the form of a tall woman, her red hair tied in an intricate pattern. She observed Xyath silently, through her large brown eyes_**

**_"You seek guidance?" she asked. The Eldar nodded_**

**_"The visions are occurring more frequently" he stated, beginning to pace again. Ulwin's expression became more troubled_**

**_"Then the time of divergence is close at hand, soon all the pieces shall be in motion."_**

**_"But there are too many variations" Xyath snapped "it's impossible to know which of them will ring true" Ulwin nodded_**

**_"Because the first decision has yet to be made. Any of your visions could be true, it all depends on him. Be patient." Xyath ceased pacing and pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger_**

**_"If he makes the wrong decision…" the Eldar trailed off. Ulwin steepled her fingers, considering her words carefully_**

**_"You must resist interfering in this affair young one" she reminded him "He is unlikely to hear you, no matter how you try to approach him." Xyath sighed and began to walk across the chamber constructed from bone, to return to his meditation. The cocoon opened to grant him entry and the Eldar seated himself, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap. The cocoon closed and he was once more lost within the webway._**

* * *

The rumbling forms of the Tank regiments appeared on the horizon just prior to sundown, Predators and Vindicators at the head of the convoy, with the Legion's Basilisks bringing up the rear. Most of the tanks had some form of artillery platform tethered to them, and were dragging large thud guns and mortars behind them through the sun bleached sand.

"About bloody time" Rax growled, invoking a disapproving glare form the First Captain

"They're here as soon as they need to be Dominus" his expressions softened "you could always walk." Avaro chuckled around his cigar, walking in Terminator plate was hard enough, walking for miles in the hot sun across sand was no meagre feet. It always impressed Rival how the Third Company could charge around without much hindrance in such bulky plate, the main reason that the First Company were not armed with it, an anomaly among the Legions as Avaro had so aptly discovered, when fighting beside their brothers from the Luna wolves or Iron hands. Additional companies were being ferried down to Vermire's surface, the amassed Astartes force now numbering over two thousand Legionnaires. No chances were being taken with the Orks, this would be a campaign to remember. The battle plans had been drawn up for the second stage of the assault. The Shadow Knight forces were to divide into three large war bands, each one bearing roughly six companies, each force would be allocated a particular hive to assault and hold, whilst splinter forces tracked down Ork settlements and destroyed them. The primary force, led by the Primarch were bound for the largest of the three hives, the trek there estimated to take little over two months provided the force kept pace.

Shielding his face form the relentless suns, Avaro surveyed the amassed Legion, each Company designated by their own individual markings, despite being part of the same fleet, Avaro recognised few of the other Companies, save by reputation. The Primarch's voice crackled over the vox. A frequency addressing all Shadow Knights on the planet's surface.

"Sons of Rival" the Primarchs words sounded over the chatter of warriors and the rumbling of engines "let us show the Warmaster how to deal with an Ork invasion" the roar of approval seemed to shake the air itself as fists were raised in an informal salute. Avaro grinned and rested his chainsword on his shoulder

"Let's get to work" Epoch and Rax nodded in approval, and the three returned to the convoy of the Primary strike force.

The journey across the rolling desert was not an easy one. Vermire's three suns seemed to assail the Marching Astartes in unison. The combined heat seemed to flay the paint off of the tanks as they crawled over the bleached sand. Had it not been for their enhanced genetics the Shadow knight would have slowed down, some may even have fallen.

Terraforming procedures had begun on Vermire, prior to the arrival of the Orks. Focussing on stimulating rain and providing water for the hives as they were constructed and expanded upon. The result had been that the area around each hive was predominantly stone and mud, whilst the desert reigned for the rest of the continent's surface. After a week of relentless marching, the Primary force came across an Ork encampment, most of the area had been burned to the ground by the advanced scouts and the corpses disposed of.

Rival crouched to inspect the bodies of the greenskins, the rest of the force holding position, awaiting his orders. The Primarch straightened up. Separating from the rest of the force, Avaro jogged over to where the Rival stood, as if waiting.

"My lord?" The Primarch remained motionless, staring intently at the corpses at his feet. The Second Captain moved a step closer "Primarch?" as if awoken from a dream, Rival turned

"Move out" he turned and strode back towards his personal Spartan. Avaro lingered for a few moments, trying to trace what had attracted the attention of his liege lord. Something glinted amidst the scorched bodies. Crouching to get a better look, Avaro made out a faint design, carved into the flesh of one of the green skins. It was shaped similar to a crescent moon, with one of the ends tapering off. A malignant eye resided in the symbol's centre, almost glaring up at him. It didn't resemble any Ork symbols Avaro had come across before, it seemed too, intricate compared to most of the Orks crude symbol language. Pushing the image to the back of his mind, he trudged back across the sand to where a Rhino APC was awaiting him.

Night finally fell. The unnaturally long day ended, replaced only by the freezing clutches of the darkness. Avaro's breath exited his helmet grill in a small cloud. Runes flashing across his heads up display revealed the temperature had dropped exponentially. From his vantage point atop the APC he could see the Primarch's command vehicle, leading the way. Its green searchlight casting an eerie glow across the sand ahead. Avaro dropped down from the Rhino's access hatch into the troop compartment.

"As if the heat wasn't enough" Orion chuckled. He Captain sealed the hatch and strapped in again

"This is nothing compared to Seventy three- nine." Orion nodded

"Aye but then again.." the conversation was cut short as a blast from outside shook the vehicle. Avaro was on his feet in moments. With a grunt he slammed his fist against the access hatch controls and the Rhino's doors opened.

Screaming Orks thundered down the sand dunes towards the convoy. The sharp bangs of boltguns echoing through the air, as squads of marines began taking pot shots at the advancing hoarde. Avaro switched his weapon to full auto and crouched before opening fire. Squad Orion formed a suppressive line behind him. The roar of heavy bolters filled the air, drowning out the war cries of the Orks. Streams of glowing bolts cut down waves of them in seconds. A Legionnaire darted forwards and hurled a Phospex bomb. The chemical explosive detonated, wreathing the beasts in green flame as the skin melted from their bones in the intense heat. The Primarch stormed forwards, thunder hammer in hand as he ordered the counter charge. The flames from the Phospex didn't seem to hinder him, leaping through the flames he brought his hammer down in an explosion of Orks and blood. Avaro maglocked his bolter and drew his chainsword

"Second Company!" He bellowed "Charge!" the rest of the company drew their combat blades and surged forwards, following their Primarch. The Tanks adjusted their guns, firing around the charging Legionnaires. The other five companies in the convoy following the example set by the Second.

With a sweep of his hammer Rival smashed another Ork aside, following the strike up with a burst from his Meltafire Cannon. The white hot blast seared through the mob. A surge of energy slammed into his breastplate, slowing him for a few brief moments. The bolts of pale lightening crackled across his armour. Gritting his teeth he crushed another Ork in the grip of his power fist before tracking the shot to its source. Surrounded by a field of electricity the Weirdboy jerked his clenched fist towards, bolts leaping through the air, striking down Legionaires. Taking a firm grip on his hammer, Rival Charged. Orks were smashed aside or crushed underfoot as the Primarch gathered speed. Orks attempted to turn and run, but were quickly laid low by Bolterfire. Flashes of warp energy steaked through the air towards Rival as he crashed through what may have passed as the Weirdboy's bodyguard. The Xenos beast swung its stave, the spiked club at its end rebounding off of the Primarch's battle plate. With a snarl Rival struck the creature a harsh blow to the chest, his power fist causing untold damage to the Ork's internal organs. Flames poured through rents in the Weirdboy's chest, bathing the Primarch in purple flame.

Gore sprayed into the air as Avaro wrenched the spine free from one of the beasts, using it as a makeshift club to intercept another making a lunge for him. Casting the bone weapon aside he caved the creature's skull in with the pommel of his chainsword. He lifted his gaze in time to see the Primarch vanish in a surge of purple energy, pouring from the Weirboy.

"NO!" he roared.

Rival gritted his teeth, forcing the energy surge back with an open palm. He could feel his armour heating up under the strain. The energy flashes from the Weirdboy grew more sporadic as it attempted to stagger away from its titanic assailant. Rival laughed as he observed the beast trying to run

"What's wrong?" he roared "scared?" lifting his hammer aloft he brought the weapon down, bursting the Weirdboy in an explosion of gore. A shockwave of psychic energy bursting from the corpses head, causing nearby Orks to lose their footing or crash to the ground. Rival lifted his thunder hammer to the heavens

"For the Emperor!" he bellowed.

Hearing the Primarch's war cry Avaro cursed himself for feeling that a mere Ork could topple his Legion's father. The mental punishment was cut short however, as the skirmish wasn't done yet,a dn there were plenty of Orks yet to kill.

Dawn saw the final Orks laid low. Avaro shook his blood slicked chainsword, trying to dispel some of the drying gore. The weapon had strained to function towards the end of the battle, the dried blood and sinew clogging the workings. Confirmations had come in of a multitude of Weirdboys being slain by other members of the convoy. It seemed as though the green skin witches had opened some form of rent in the warp, and had teleported forces through in an attempt to slaughter the Shadow Knight war band.

"Probably flushed out by one of our scouts" Epoch grunted, cleaning his Helberd on a ragged piece of cloth, still draped around a dead Ork. Avaro nodded

"No doubt the beast ran into the convoy as it escaped the advanced force, brought in reinforcements to act as a meat shield". Support teams lifted newly refuelled flamers and began to burn the corpses. Audible pops sounded from the bodies as trapped gas within the beasts expanded, causing them to burst. Avaro's nose wrinkled

"They smell worse when they're dead" he grunted. The First Captain laughed

"Plenty more of the stinking bastards yet to kill Nathan, you can count on that."


End file.
